I Pity the School
by Perminator
Summary: After a sudden tragedy, Hogwarts is forced to take the first available help...if you can call it that.
1. The Tea Pot That Wrecked it All

August 31st. Tomorrow, the Hogwarts students would come back, complaining,   
after having a nice summer, Albus Dumbledore had hoped. Though, he knew that   
this would not be true. After frantically searching for several months, he   
found no one who wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.  
  
"Alby, this just came for you," Minerva McGonagall handed him a folded   
letter. He read it aloud:  
  
Thank you for the offer, but I have some important things to assess this year.  
  
Love, Whitney Houston.  
  
"Damn," Dumbledore said to himself, "Even the crackwhore dismissed the job   
opportunity."  
  
"Well," McGonagall said, annoyed, "We could just leave this class out this   
year."  
  
"Yes," he replied, "But, those poor children will never have the adequate   
information they need." He stood up to go get a pot of tea laying on window   
sill, when he tripped on an empty tea pot and fell out the open window.  
  
McGonagall walked over to the window to see Dumbledore in a wretched heap 500   
some odd feet (I don't know meters, I'm a dumb American) below. "Well," she   
said to herself, "I better get Poppy."  
  
After running, walking (McGonagall is getting awfully old, you know), pacing,   
running again, walking, and finally power walking, she reached the hospital   
wing.  
  
"Poppy!" She yelled, gasping for breath, "Need . . . go . . . outside . . .   
Alby!"  
  
"Oh, you seem as if you ran a 15K race. Why don't you sit down for while?"  
  
"Can't . . . dying . . . must . . . save."  
  
"Oh, all right. Tell me where I need to go."  
  
"Right . . . Outside . . . Dumbledore's window!"  
  
After 10 minutes, Madame Pomfrey returned with the writhed figures of Albus   
Dumbledore. "Well," Made Pomfret chuckled, "It seems we're a little late."  
  
"You mean, he's not . . . " McGonagall was in near tears.  
  
Madame Pomfrey laughed, "Oh, no. He's just in a state of shock. He should be   
out of it in . . . oh . . . 10 to 12 months."  
  
Minerva gasped, "How are we going to find a replacement? We can't even get   
Whitney Houston to teach here, how are we going to find two replacements in   
one day?"  
  
Madame Pomfrey smiled, "I think I have an idea."  
  
***  
  
"I can't believe I was tricked into doing this," Snape frowned as they entered   
the building. "And why the hell would they have a convention here?"  
  
"They're Americans in Entertainment, it's not supposed to make sense,"   
McGonagall said with a smirk.  
  
Many hours had passed, but none with any hope. They had talked to Barbara   
Walters, Joan Rivers, Pat Sajack, Regis Philbin, Tommy Lee, Calista Flockhart,   
Bill Cosby, Steven Segall, Martha Stewart, and Janet Reno, but all had   
unfortunately (if you can call it that) refused.  
  
"This is getting us no where," Snape sighed, but then he sighted a very tall,   
black guy sitting by his self.  
  
"I pity the foo' who mess wit T." The man said as Snape approached him.  
  
"You have spunk. The kids will like it for a week, but the teachers will dread   
talking to you."  
  
The man sighed, "What you be talkin' 'bout foo'?"  
  
"Oh, come on," It had been awhile since Snape had exercised his people skills,   
but he thought he was doing a very good job. "I'm offering you the chance to   
sit in an office for 9 month, play with magical things and order around people   
you will never see or remember again."  
  
The man looked more interested, "I be listenin'."  
  
"Anyway, you're hired if you agree to the job."  
  
"Simple as dat?"   
  
"Absolutely."  
***  
"Oh, golly gee!" Hermione exclaimed when they arrived at the castle, "I am so   
happy to be here again!"  
  
Harry and Ron stopped in the middle of their path. They saw something awfully   
strange, and worth stopping for.  
  
"Oh, God," Ron said with a frown. "I have seen him before..."  
  
Harry frowned also, "Yes, Dudley has a poster of him in his room. I think   
he's in this stupid group in America, Dudley absolutely adores them."  
  
Then Hermione saw what they were staring at. "OOOH! Isn't he just the   
hotte...I mean, oh, God, do you think he's working here this year?"  
  
Harry and Ron ignored her comment. Ron continued Harry's conversation, "Isn't   
he that guy from *N Sticks, or Outta Sync, or whatever they're called?"  
  
"It's *N Sync," Hermione corrected them.  
***  
"Do 'ya think I look aight?" The new headmaster asked McGonagall as they sat   
down for the welcoming feast.  
  
"Uh...yes, Mr. T." She replied, trying to sound sincere. It was hard not to   
laugh, he was dressed in a ripped black muscle shirt with hundreds of gold   
chains. He had a ratty old pair of jeans, and earrings that were twice the   
size of his head. She buried her head in her hands. 'This is going to be an   
interesting year,' she thought to herself.  
***  
The Thursday after they arrived, the 5th year Gryffindors, to their utter most   
joy, had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
"Kill me now," Ron cried before they entered. From the former testaments   
from the people who had already had it, it seemed as if this would be their   
worst class.  
  
"It can't be that bad, can it?" Hermione tried to cheer them up.  
  
Figures - she was wrong.  
  
"Word." He said when everyone entered. When everyone took their seat, he   
began 'teaching'. "Dude, my name be Justin Timberlake, and I don't know why I   
be teachin' you here."  
  
Hermione raised her hand.  
  
"Uh, you who looks like she just hit puberty."  
  
Hermione cleared her throat, "What happened to Professor Dumbledore? All the   
other teacher wouldn't tell us, and I figured you were...well...you get the   
idea."  
  
"Damn, woman! Who is this Dumbledore chick, and why is she so important?   
Anyway, take out your books and turn to page 21."  
  
Neville raised his hand.  
  
"You who looks like he sat on a bike pump."  
  
"We did this 4 years ago."  
***  
A/N: I rather dislike N Sync, and JT is easy to make fun of. Most of the   
characters belong to JK Rowling. Mr. T belongs to the A-Team (or did, a long,   
long time ago.) Flamers welcome, I wrote this story late night, and has just   
realized it is rather...far fetched. 5 reviews and I write the next chapter.  
  
  
  



	2. Headmaster T and the Help He Gives

In just two weeks time, the school had turned into something it had never seen. Everything was unorganized, nobody had learned anything new in their Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and if you had a problem, you might as well have kept it to yourself.  
  
"Maybe you should go to Headmaster T," Ron suggested to Harry on day in History of Magic class.  
  
Harry yawned, "You must be kidding, right?"  
  
"Well, unless you want to go to Professor Timberlake."  
  
"All right, all right, I'll go after...." He yawned again, "I'll go right now."  
  
"I was eavesdropping, and I couldn't help to hear you have a problem," Hermione broke into their conversation.  
  
"I need to talk to Headmaster T about the you-know-who in the you-know-where."  
  
Hermione stared at Harry and Ron, "Ohhhhhh. Well...." She cleared her throat, "Good luck."  
  
Harry stood up and walked towards Professor Binns's desk. "Professor Binns, I need to talk to Headmaster T."  
  
Professor Binns yawned, "Good luck."  
  
***  
  
Harry walked up to the statue which held the entrance to Headmaster T's office, he said the password (1-800-COLLECT) and walked the spiral staircase to the office above.  
  
"Hello lil' munchkin, what you be wantin' from Headmaster T?"  
  
Harry sighed, "I need to tell you that Draco Malfoy has been hiding in the Gryffindor fireplace."  
  
"Why he be hidin' in there?"  
  
"He's still depressed after what Professor Timberlake did to him, and he's hiding where no one will suspect him."  
  
"How you be knowin' he be in there?"  
  
"Oh, well, Fred and George Weasley threw some damaged 'materials' into there and Malfoy fell out and started yelling at us all. Then he noticed his mistake."  
  
"I be headin' down there right now!"  
  
***  
  
Headmaster T marched down the spiral staircase and marched all the way to the Gryffindor common room. He started banging on the fireplace. "Get outta there, Drawco Milfloy!"  
  
"NO! I'm not coming out until Professor Timberlake is gone!" Draco yelled in a muffled voice.  
  
"You better be gettin' outta there, or I be gettin' the broom and shakin' you out."  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Fine, I be talkin' to Professor Timberlake. I be askin' him not to be singin' for his classes again."  
  
"Will you ask him to not make me Britney Spears again?"  
  
Headmaster T flinched at the name, "I be tellin' him not to be talkin' about She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named again."  
  
Draco dropped from his hiding place in the fireplace. "Thanks Headmaster T!" And he skipped off to his next class.  
  
***  
  
"Word!" Said Professor Timberlake as the 5th year Gryffindors walked into their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "We be gettin' started. Old school!"  
  
Everyone sighed. This class would be the same as the past classes. "Today we be learnin' one of my favorite old school songs! Bye, bye, bye!  
  
The entire class groaned.   
  
Ron raised his hand.  
  
"You who looks like he stuck his head under a cherry slushy machine."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, "Are we ever going to learn about defenses against the dark arts?" As much as Ron disliked to learn, anything would be better than singing "Bye, bye, bye" again.  
  
"What are the dark arts?" He thought for a minute or two. He ran into his office and came out with an easel, paints, and paper. He blew out the candles.  
  
"Okay, what is a defensive strategy to this event?"  
  
Hermione raised her hand rather casually.  
  
"You who looks like an oriental rug."  
  
She rolled her eyes. She pulled out her wand and said, "Incendio"  
  
All the candles had their flames return to their wick. Professor Timberlake clapped, while everyone slept.  
  
After an hour or so of Professor Timberlake doing his choreographed dance, it was finally time for they Gryffindors to go to their next class.  
  
"I CAN'T STAND THIS ANYMORE!" Harry let out when they stepped out of the classroom. It wouldn't be so bad, except for the fact they had 8 more months of school.  
  
They all walked to the Great Hall for lunch. "So," Ron said trying to spark conversation, "Did Headmaster T get Draco out of the fireplace?"  
  
"I hope so," Harry sighed, "I just hope Headmaster T does something about Professor Timberlake. Before you know it, he'll be bringing in back-up singers and...JC, Chris, Joey, and Lance!"  
  
All three gasped.  
  
"I wouldn't know what I would do with myself!" Hermione sobbed.  
  
"Where is some evil force to destroy him when you need it?"  
  
***  
  
A month had passed and there was no hope. Draco had stayed away from the Gryffindor fireplace, but that was the only bright spot. The school was more unorganized than ever. They began having breakfast for lunch, and dinner for a midnight snack. The classes always started late, and Professor Timberlake still sang and danced for them every class.  
  
"It's been a whole month since we have been here, and we have nothing evil to blame Snape on!" Ron said out of the blue.  
  
"Do you think evil is staying away from here because of Professor Timberlake?"  
  
Ron shuddered, "I hope not, because then he'd stay here forever!"  
  
***  
  
A/N: Thank you for all the positive reviews, though I was confused by one which said that I must hate Harry Potter. I will assure you I don't :). Anyway, you know who everyone belongs to and all that good stuff. Please let me know if you think I should go on or not! (I will assure you that 'Professor' Timberlake will disappear when the time comes.  
  



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